


Change

by AngelPair



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 23:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17590283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelPair/pseuds/AngelPair
Summary: This is an old work/prompt meme from my tumblr. It's FrancexEnglandxAmerica, based on the prompt "“What happened doesn’t change anything".





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> As stated, this is an older work. It is a short FrUKUS drabble piece. I'm privating my main blog so am moving all my old works onto my account here.

“What happened doesn’t change anything,” England hissed to the other two nations, “Got it?”

 

America laughed, and France sighed.

 

“I’m afraid it changes everything, Angleterre,” the French nation tutted with an eye roll, “even you can’t be blind to that,”

 

England snorted. “It most certainly does not. It was a one time thing, we weren’t even sober. Not one of us is a stranger to the concept of a one night stand. Things can and will go back to how they were,” the Brit turned to leave the room, hoping to grab some food before lunch break was over and the meeting had to resume. He was stopped by a much larger body blocking his path.

 

“Yes, America?”

 

The nation had an uncharacteristically dark frown on his face, and England shivered, not liking the expression.

 

“You’re not getting away that easily. Not after last night,”

 

Yes,  _last night._ England cringed at the memory. Though his next day recollection was usually poor when he’d been drinking heavily, he remembered every little detail of  _last night._

 

He had been a state. He was always a state when he was drunk. But this time, he wasn’t crying about religion, revolution or taxes. He was crying something different. Something much more embarrassing. Love. He was crying about love and what a  _mess_ everything was. Crying about how he was so, so sick of pretending that he didn’t return the feelings of either France or America, when he actually returned the feelings of both. Crying about how he didn’t know what to do anymore, how he couldn’t keep pretending, but he didn’t know how to make them understand.

 

And he hadn’t been crying in private confidence. He had been crying into his glass in a pub crowded with nations, the two mentioned were watching in drunken bewilderment, unsure how to react to the confession. For both of them, their love requited was everything they wanted to hear, but for that love to be shared was a complicated issue. With minds fogged from alcohol, even the great nation of love had not known how to react.

 

It was America who had acted first, making a move on England, and France, not willing to give up what he deserved, soon stepped in. Things had moved quickly from there, and the three had returned to the hotel for a night that left England stiff, sore, and raw in the throat. He shuddered thinking back on the way he had acted. It was a series of events that he’d rather forget altogether.

 

“We need to talk Angleterre. That was not just a one night stand,”

 

“It’s different this time England, it was different and you know it,”

 

England sighed. America was still frowning, and France looked like a scolding parent. He would at least have to hear the nations out. He backed off from the door, still blocked by America.

 

“Fine. Speak,” he conceded.

 

“Alfred and I have come to an agreement,” France started.

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “An agreement – AH!” his composure was lost when two arms wrapped around him from behind, “What are you doing you prat?”

 

America’s only response was to grunt and nibble on his neck.

 

“Fucking hell Alfred, get off. I thought we were here to have a civil conversation,”

 

Francis, looking slightly peeved, cleared his throat and glared at America.

 

“As I was saying, we have come to an agreement. You do not have to choose between America and myself – and don’t try to deny that you want us both, you were very clear yesterday – we are willing to share you,”

 

“Share me?” Arthur growled, still trying to wriggle away from the American, “I’m not a bloody bar of chocolate,”

 

“Yes,  _share_ you,” France gave the American a pointed look as he continued his attack on the Brit’s neck. England was finally starting to melt into the attention, and deciding he didn’t want to be left out any longer, France swooped in and stole England’s mouth. England groaned into the unexpected kiss, and Francis pulled away with a smirk.

 

“It’s not ideal,” America said, punctuating the sentence by yanking England further into his chest, and slightly further away from Francis. The two nations exchanged a glare over the top of a slightly disconcerted England’s head, “But we can make it work. It’s what’s best for you after all. You were pretty upset yesterday,”

 

England took a moment to come to grips with the proposal, but eventually spoke up. “I – ah,” Francis was the one attacking his neck now, and he groaned helplessly, “I guess – ahhh,” a nip on his ear from America, “I guess…I could live with that,”

 

The look exchanged by America and France was now a sly one. Their plan had been successful, and an odd, three way relationship had been established.

 

“And I’m sure everyone can live without us three at the meeting, just for one afternoon, oui?” Francis asked the slightly dishevelled Englishman.

 

“They’re going to bloody well have to, because neither of you are going anywhere until you’ve finished what you’ve started,” England growled desperately, and France chuckled.

 

“Aw, England, we wouldn’t dare,” America grinned as he reached behind himself to lock the door, “It’s just the three of us today,”

 

England nodded. It looked like he was in for another pleasantly rough night, and this time, he wasn’t complaining.


End file.
